


Silence

by cyanidegirl



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Heavy Angst, M/M, No happy end, empty apartments are a bad reminder, hurt fic, post failsafe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:18:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8265743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanidegirl/pseuds/cyanidegirl
Summary: If a heart breaks and no one is around to hear it, does it still hurt?Yes.Always.





	

The two of you have always been known for your chatter, your constant movement.  You've both always felt the need to fill silent spaces, to erase awkward gaps in conversation. So it is a surprise then, when you both find your mornings together quiet.  For once, you are content to let actions speak.  

      You grow used to those easy mornings, to rolling over and gazing at smiling green eyes.  Neither of you need words to express your love, not in those moments. It is enough to simply hold each other tightly and pull the blankets around you.  

      Silent mornings remind you how you fit instinctively with him, no effort needed.

      Quiet mornings used to be a gentle reminder of the love between you two.  Now, in the solitary silence of your once shared apartment, it just another suffocating reminder that _he is gone_.

      It is evening and you have come back from yet another shift at the police station (you have a habit of burying your feelings in work) and you pause every time you walk through the door without hearing his greeting.  You stand there, stiff uniform and tired eyes, feeling the weight of the noiseless apartment weighing on you.  It’s not right.  He should be there, in all his craziness, to welcome you and talk to you and just _make noise_.  He should be there, putting life into that tiny apartment.  If there’s ever one thing he excelled at, it was how full of life he was.  Bursting at the seams and now he’s _nothing_.  

      You didn’t even have a body to bury.  Just an empty coffin.

      And so now you sit, a single cold plate of dinner at a table meant for two, in a silent apartment meant to be full.  Your life, meant to be shared.  


End file.
